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Ah Yes, I Remember it Well
Aug. 24th, 2006 04:38 am"The Jacaranda Smile" run-down, as of tonight—
New words: 922.
Sections completed: Five (one tiny).
Words total: 9,117.
Reasons for stopping: Sleep, teeth hurt, I need to be up early tomorrow.
Coffee?: Two cups this morning.
Food: Smoked salmon with everything on bagel at school, last of the "green" pasta mix tonight, ice cream after.
Exercise: Thirty minutes on the treadmill, free weights and stretches, BodyFlow. Best two hours I’ve spent in days.
Non-Writing-Related Work: Latest count rings in roughly 61 Fifth Term project submissions to assess. I did twenty-five today, which takes me to about 25%. This effectiveness was certainly helped by the fact that very few people showed up with work during class-time, but then again, I’m still pretty far ahead compared to everybody else on the panel. The most recent "NO!" pile standouts include a PSA about child abuse formatted so badly that the author continually confuses dialogue with scene action; it purports to be only eight pages long, but if it was written out properly, it’d more likely hit thirty.
Darling du Jour: "What Aoife did for a living, back then—when she was living—was produce industrial films, which is not even a quarter as glamorous a process as you might expect something involving the words "produce" and "films" sitting right next to each other to be."
Mean Things: Intense description of details surrounding triple bypass surgery, originally told to me in strictest confidence.
N.B.: Again, as mentioned earlier, this story is digging up all sorts of personal crap, so much so that I find it difficult to pick and choose on the basic of relevance alone. Word-count already implies this will need heavy editing; hope Steve's up to it.
Books in progress: The Collected Works of Charles Fort; A House Divided by Deborah Leblanc; The Black Dahlia by James Ellroy.
TV: Blade: The Series, on which Marcus van Sciver finally kicked somrbody’s ass personally, Chase was mistaken for Krista (to her cost), and Blade got—was it jealous?—while Marcus and Krista got busy. This really is a thirteen-hour movie, and as such, might eventually out-do every one of the Wesley Snipes trifecta for snarky vampire/-slayer goodness.
DVDs: Rented An American Haunting, but Steve crapped out half an hour in. Not so terrible as advertised, thus far.
Music: Pod. That’s about the size of it, these days.
Cal Report: Chirpy, crazy in alternate doses. Yesterday, Steve took him swimming. Today, he barely got him to the lobby, let alone the Post Office (his only errand to run); I think he feels guilty, thus the early night of it, but that means so incredibly little to me it almost doesn't bear mentioning. And even LESS, needless to say, to Cal.
All right, I don’t foresee anything else being produced tonight. Toast, Robaxicet, bed.
New words: 922.
Sections completed: Five (one tiny).
Words total: 9,117.
Reasons for stopping: Sleep, teeth hurt, I need to be up early tomorrow.
Coffee?: Two cups this morning.
Food: Smoked salmon with everything on bagel at school, last of the "green" pasta mix tonight, ice cream after.
Exercise: Thirty minutes on the treadmill, free weights and stretches, BodyFlow. Best two hours I’ve spent in days.
Non-Writing-Related Work: Latest count rings in roughly 61 Fifth Term project submissions to assess. I did twenty-five today, which takes me to about 25%. This effectiveness was certainly helped by the fact that very few people showed up with work during class-time, but then again, I’m still pretty far ahead compared to everybody else on the panel. The most recent "NO!" pile standouts include a PSA about child abuse formatted so badly that the author continually confuses dialogue with scene action; it purports to be only eight pages long, but if it was written out properly, it’d more likely hit thirty.
Darling du Jour: "What Aoife did for a living, back then—when she was living—was produce industrial films, which is not even a quarter as glamorous a process as you might expect something involving the words "produce" and "films" sitting right next to each other to be."
Mean Things: Intense description of details surrounding triple bypass surgery, originally told to me in strictest confidence.
N.B.: Again, as mentioned earlier, this story is digging up all sorts of personal crap, so much so that I find it difficult to pick and choose on the basic of relevance alone. Word-count already implies this will need heavy editing; hope Steve's up to it.
Books in progress: The Collected Works of Charles Fort; A House Divided by Deborah Leblanc; The Black Dahlia by James Ellroy.
TV: Blade: The Series, on which Marcus van Sciver finally kicked somrbody’s ass personally, Chase was mistaken for Krista (to her cost), and Blade got—was it jealous?—while Marcus and Krista got busy. This really is a thirteen-hour movie, and as such, might eventually out-do every one of the Wesley Snipes trifecta for snarky vampire/-slayer goodness.
DVDs: Rented An American Haunting, but Steve crapped out half an hour in. Not so terrible as advertised, thus far.
Music: Pod. That’s about the size of it, these days.
Cal Report: Chirpy, crazy in alternate doses. Yesterday, Steve took him swimming. Today, he barely got him to the lobby, let alone the Post Office (his only errand to run); I think he feels guilty, thus the early night of it, but that means so incredibly little to me it almost doesn't bear mentioning. And even LESS, needless to say, to Cal.
All right, I don’t foresee anything else being produced tonight. Toast, Robaxicet, bed.
